


The Dwarf Queen

by SassySnowperson



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarf Gender Concepts, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Marriage Proposal, Marriage of Convenience, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassySnowperson/pseuds/SassySnowperson
Summary: Carrot is named King. Of the Dwarfs.He doesn't want to be king. His nomination is really just a nasty case of Ambition and Politics on the part of some upstart dwarfs. Still, he needs to be very careful how he handles this. Accepting the throne means war. Rejecting...probably also means war.Help comes from an unexpected source when Cheery Littlebottom offers up a unique proposal. If these ambitious dwarfs want a king, then maybe they should be forced to accept aqueen, as well.~"No, I've beat around the bush enough, I'm just going to come out and say it. You should accept the coronation, and at the same time announce that you are happy to announce a political union with the Coal Hills Mine, and you are marrying the daughter of their respected engineer, Jolly Littlebottom. Which is, um, me."Carrot ran through that plan a few times, before he was confident he got the relevant details. "Marry…you?"
Relationships: Carrot Ironfoundersson/Cheery Littlebottom
Comments: 26
Kudos: 32
Collections: Happy Belated Treatmas 2020





	The Dwarf Queen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ashling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Ashling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/pseuds/Ashling) in the [happy_belated_treatmas_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/happy_belated_treatmas_2020) collection. 



> This fic was initially started as a treat for the Just Married Gift exchange. Much later, and I'm happy to have finally polished it up and have a reason to gift it!

"Excuse me!" 

Carrot, with a sinking sensation in his gut, turned to find Sachrissa Cripslock determinedly wading her way through the busy market square toward where he stood next to the yellow rope printed with the words, "Bugger off!* Police Business!" (*What the words lacked in professionalism, they made up for in clarity). He briefly harbored a flitting hope that perhaps the current of the crowds would sweep her away. Unfortunately, Miss Cripslock had the wading skills of a determined fisherman stalking the Blink Salmon in the mountains of Lancre, and was upon Carrot before he could escape. 

"Captain Carrot," she said crisply, "as you must be aware, there are rumors circling of your claim to royalty! Do you have any comment on the matter?"

Carrot was relieved. He had thought she was going to ask about the interesting graffiti of…Humorously Shaped Vegetables, in Sargent Colon's words. Compared to the difficulty of finding a professional statement to make on Incidents of Vegetables, he felt nearly confident in answering her question. Still, he could feel the Commander's glare across the city, and he chose his words with care.

He laughed, casually, and shook his head. "I'm a copper, and the son of a hardworking dwarf mining family. I hardly think a dwarf would be the King of Ankh-Morpork!" 

Miss Cripslock gave a dismissive wave. "Not the King of Ankh-Morpork. The newly-appointed King of"—Miss Cripslock paused to read a notation scribbled on her palm—"the collective mines of the Red Hills, the Shale Lowlands, and the Dunhaven Hams." Sachirissa squinted at her palm. "Dunhaven Plains," she clarified. 

Carrot's blood decided it didn't want to be seen anywhere near the brain that was dealing with this new information. It slunk away from his head, leaving Carrot feeling lightheaded and woozy. "Oh, dear," Carrot said faintly. "That's not good." 

* * *

Carrot sat in the Vimes' receiving parlor, which was a room so full of class and wealth that it had decided it didn't need to keep up pretences and could just be cozy instead. It was a comfort to Carrot, in an otherwise distinctly un-cozy time. 

There was a vein along the side of the Commander's forehead that Carrot could use to measure the level of the Commander's anger. Right now it was bulging a serious, Verge-of-Sam-Vimes-Going-Spare. It hadn't started pulsing yet, which was a good sign. 

"What do you mean, King of the Dwarfs?" Sam bit out. "We already met the King of the Dwarfs! Rhys is still alive and kicking, I happen to know, considering he and Sybil are penpals." 

Carrot shook his head. "Rhys is the Low King of the dwarfs. They've just named me King. For now." 

"What do you mean, for now?" The Commander's vein gave one twitching pulse. 

"The areas Miss Cripslock listed, my family isn't from those mines. They're emerging mines, new. The leadership of those mines doesn't have a place on the clan council. They've got no business naming anyone who isn't a tested, reliable engineer to the role." 

"So a bunch of upstarts decides to elect the most famous dwarf on the Disc to be their king." Sam said, sounding tired. "They've got a nasty case of ambition. There's no way that ends well. Can't you just say no?"

Carrot squirmed. "I…could. Maybe. But it would invite nearby mines to stage a hostile takeover." 

"That sounds bad." 

"It's a war, Sir," Carrot said miserably. "They fired the first shot by electing me. And even aside from the trouble it would make out there—" 

"I know," Vimes said grimly. "We've got the children of every mining family on the Disc tucked under one section of Ankh-Morpork or another. If there's war out here, it's not good for my city." 

"I'll start a war if I decline, and another if I accept. The easiest thing to do would be pretend I never heard about it, but considering Miss Cripslock walked away from me muttering something about first-page headline materiel, I don't think I'm going to have that option for more than a few hours." 

"There's got to be something we can do," Vimes muttered.

"Sam, dear, I think I might be able to help in this case." 

Vimes visibly brightened. "Sybil! Yes, this is Politics. You're good at Politics." 

Sybil gave her husband an adoring look. It made Carrot's chest ache. Not that he had any designs on the Duchess, she and the Commander were so clearly a matched set it was impossible to imagine either of them with anyone else. But he and Angua's on-again, off-again relationship was looking more and more likely to be set permanently to off. It was probably for the best, Angua was serious about her career and didn't need the distraction. Carrot wished her well.

Carrot just also wished he had _someone_ who looked at him like that. It was a personal matter, and wouldn't interfere with his work but...still. 

It'd be nice. 

"It's not actually me doing the politicking this time. One of your own has a fairly insightful suggestion." 

From behind Sybil's skirts a friendly dwarf face appeared. "Heard about the trouble," Cheery said with a rueful smile. "My dad actually went to the surface and found a clacks machine to make sure I had the news." 

"If you've got an idea, I don't care how you heard it. Get in here," Vimes ordered. 

Cheery did so, but once she arrived in the room, she seemed strangely unable to speak. She twisted her hands in front of her, her cheeks a furious red color. 

"Sam, darling, I need your help." 

"Sybil, now's not really the time—" 

"Now, Sam." 

Carrot was pretty sure if she used that tone of voice, an oncoming storm would rethink its plans, tuck its tail between its legs, and go thunder somewhere else. It certainly worked on the Commander, who was even more stubborn than a storm. 

Soon, Carrot and Cheery were alone in the room. "So…" Carrot started.

"It's a dumb plan and you can say no. But I figured you should at least hear it. So you _could_ say no, and I didn't just imagine you saying no in my head and not actually give you the chance to—" 

"Say no?" Carrot finished for her. 

Cheery blushed some more. "It's not a good plan." 

"It might be better than my very bad plan, though," Carrot said. "Which was seeing if Vetinari would help me fake my own death, and really hope he understood the _fake_ part." 

Cheery looked mildly horrified. "Um," she squeaked. "I don't think it's—no, I've beat around the bush enough, I'm just going to come out and say it. You should accept the coronation, and at the same time announce that you are happy to announce a political union with the Coal Hills Mine, and you are marrying the _daughter_ of their respected engineer, Jolly Littlebottom. Which is, um, me."

Carrot ran through that plan a few times, before he was confident he got the relevant details. "Marry…you?" 

"I told you it was a bad plan! But I was just thinking, I'm sort of a terrible dwarf."

"You are not! Your beard is always shining, and you always have your axe on hand," Carrot protested. Though, he understood what Cheery meant. Even Carrot, at the beginning, hadn't been too sure about all this gender nonsense. But then Angua had whacked him upside the head and he had apologized. Since then, he and Cheery had some really good conversations about how painful it was when the way people see you and the way you see yourself don't match. 

Carrot realized he could understand, when it came right down to it. Many people thought he wasn't a dwarf. He knew they were wrong. But that was the important part, the knowing, wasn't it? So Cheery knew she was a woman. And she wanted people to see her like one. 

But that meant…well, it meant that many, many dwarfs thought she was, to use her own words, sort of a terrible dwarf. And that meant… 

"The Red Hills, the Shale Lowlands, and the Dunhaven Plains aren't really known for their progressive way of thinking, are they?" Carrot said slowly. 

"No," Cheery shook her head. "Bit backward, really. Can't imagine they'd be okay with their King having a…" 

"A queen." Carrot folded his fingers and thought things through carefully. "They'd probably come up with some reason the election wasn't right. One of the elders was stuck in a tunnel, or something." 

"Right! And then _they_ don't get a powerful figurehead ruler to wave around and do Politics with. And everyone else doesn't try to murder them in response. No war!"

"But if they _do_ go along with it…" Carrot wrinkled his nose. 

"I don't...think they will. But if they do, then they're not really making a statement about power anymore, are they? They're making a statement about equal rights and who counts as a dwarf. Everyone's still going to be furious at them, but in a way that will probably lead to less stabbing. I think. Either that or I get stabbed a lot." Cheery wrinkled her nose. 

Carrot wanted to make some grand statement about how he wouldn't let anyone stab Cheery, no matter what. But that would be lying, because they both lived dangerous lives, and he wasn't all-powerful. "I'd do my best to keep that from happening," he offered instead. 

Cheery looked at him with appreciative surprise. "That's really sweet, thanks."

Carrot was pleasantly surprised. He was vaguely aware that people didn't find his honesty all that romantic. And then he was surprised again, because when had he started thinking about romance and Cheery in the same sentence? 

He was going to do it, he realized with a gloomy clarity at his own decision making. She was right, it was the best option, and he'd already decided. He felt vaguely annoyed that his conscious brain had been left out of the decision making process. 

"Are you sure you really want to throw yourself into all this?" Carrot asked, needing to be sure. "It's probably going to be a nightmare."

"Are _you_ sure? You do realize we might actually need to get married, right?" Cheery sounded a little panicked as she threw his question back at him. 

"I wouldn't mind," Carrot answered without thinking. He immediately felt his cheeks heat. "I mean, I respect you, and you're a friend, and I trust that we'd be able to communicate clearly and—" 

Cheery reached over and took his hand. Carrot was grateful for the excuse to stop babbling, and looked at her. 

"I think I get what you mean." She squeezed his hand. "And yes, it's going to be awful, but…not as awful as war. Probably." 

Carrot gave a rusty laugh. "Well then, on account that it would not be as awful as war, will you marry me, Cheery Littlebottom?" 

She paused, took a breath, before giving a firm, "Yes." 

Carrot felt, for one ridiculous moment, gleeful. The circumstances were all wrong, but he had sort of given up on ever being able to ask that question and get that answer. "Well, I suppose now we need to tell the Commander." 

Cheery, who had been just on the verge of smiling, suddenly crumpled. "He's going to explode. Oh, bright day, we've both agreed to become royalty. He's going to _go spare_." 

Carrot winced. "Special circumstances. I think we'll be okay. Best tell him around Sybil, though." 

* * *

Cheery had done a number of stupid things* in her life. (*In fact, as an alchemist, it could be argued that doing stupid things was an important aspect of her professional development.) This, though, felt stupid in a new and innovative and almost certainly disasterous sort of way. 

Still, Cheery thought as she gritted her teeth and smiled for the nice vampire holding the camera, better than a war. She had to assume Carrot, standing behind her with his hands—broad, warm gentle hands—on her shoulder was thinking the same thing. It was the only way they would get through this interrogation without fleeing or arresting the woman with the intent gaze and the pen. 

"And how long have the two of you been together?" Sacharissa Cripslock asked. "Captain Carrot, you cut quite the figure about town. It seems surprising that the public didn't know about your romantic entanglement."

"Well, honestly, up until now, it wasn't any of their business." Carrot squeezed Cheery's shoulders, and her heart momentarily stopped. He moved around to sit down next to her. "Besides, it's the dwarfish way to be circumspect about these things until you're sure."

"And now you're sure?" Sacharaissa asked. 

Carrot gave her that straightforward smile that had wooed more than half the city. "I am absolutely certain that marrying Cheery is the best decision I could possibly make. Especially considering my recent appointment as king, which came as quite the surprise, but what an honor!" 

Cheery had to marvel about how Carrot was using the absolute truth to tell a whopper of a lie. It was impressive enough that she didn't even mind that Sacharaissa was mostly completely ignoring her to talk to Carrot. It's what most people did when Carrot was in the room*, anyway. (*Carrot, it could be said, had a magnetic personality. So magnetic that several wizards were writing their dissertation on carrotrons, a new particle that they swore were going to break the known laws of physics**.) (**It is worth mentioning that the laws of physics were not, in fact, particularly well known by wizards. They practiced more the nodding acquaintance of co-workers who mostly discussed sports and the weather.) 

No, no point in being upset about that. The thing she was upset about, and much more justifiably so, is that she was, unfortunately, a one of the many, many people Carrot had won over with his…Carrot-ness. It would be much, much easier to go into this if she was just working with a friend to stop a war. Instead she was fake-flirting with a real-crush and it was _extremely difficult_. 

Cheery was caught up enough in her thoughts that it took her a minute to realize that Sachrissa was actually speaking to her. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" 

"I understand that it's a bit…nontraditional for dwarfs to have a queen. Do you feel any pressure, taking on that title?" 

_I've woken up in the middle of the night every night since we decided to do this. I don't remember the dreams. I'm just…running. And No matter how far and how fast I run, something is going to get me. Something bad. Do you understand that, Miss Cripslock? Do you understand that I'm running in my dreams because I'm not running in life. In real life I'm turning to face the monster head on, I'm throwing myself at your pen and letting you lay me out for slaughter at the hands of every dwarf in this city. And I'm doing it because the alternative is worse._

"Oh, I wouldn't say _pressure_!" Cheery said, cheerily. It was the family disposition, after all. "After all, Carrot's at my side, and we all know he's wonderful. I'm so excited to finally go public and I'm hoping that my story resonates with every little dwarf girl with a dream. Maybe they can get to be queen too."

_Aim taken, shots fired. I can lie without lying too. It's going to be ugly, but look at me, dwarf women. The default doesn't have to define us. Look at me, I exist, and I'm done existing quietly. Your move, collective mines of the Red Hills, the Shale Lowlands, and the Dunhaven. Your move, dwarfdom. I'm here, and I'm not going away._

Next to her, Carrot grabbed her hand and squeezed it, giving her a smile that was entirely genuine. Cheery bit her lip and smiled up at him. She squeezed his hand in return. 

"Hm," said Sachrissa, and Cheery looked back over. She had her pen between her teeth, and was giving Cheery an intent look. "Tell me," Sachrissa said after along moment. She dropped her pen back to the paper, her eyes completely fixed on Cheery, "what sort of reforms would you like to see rolled out in the mines you will soon partially oversee?"

Cheery felt her smile sharpen. "My soon-to-be husband will be doing the actual overseeing, of course. That's the way of things in dwarf culture, everything according to merit. But, along those lines, there are some customs I think could be modernized, to ensure that _everyone_ with merit is given the chance to do something great with their life." 

"Tell me more," Sachrissa said smoothly, and Cheery leaned in. She might actually end up enjoying this interview. 

* * *

"What is _this_?" Agua burst into Carrot's office in a flurry of fury, flinging a newspaper down on his desk. On the front page was a picture of him and Cheery. It wasn't the posed, formal shot Carrot had expected. Otto must have continued shooting during the interview. He and Cheery were holding hands and smiling at each other. 

It was a nice picture. Unfortunately, it didn't explain why, exactly, Angua was so furious.

"I probably should have told you?" Carrot tried. That seemed like a safe bet. 

"Told me! Told me what, exactly? Because in that headline alone I can see _quite a few_ things you've been hiding from me!" 

"Not hiding," Carrot protested. "I wouldn't have done a newspaper interview if I was hiding it." He felt it was a reasonable counter argument. 

From her growl, Angua apparently did not. 

"I only just found out I was elected king a three days ago! I've been running myself ragged since then." 

"Carrot,' Angua said, in the tone she only used when she was absolutely furious and determined to keep her calm. "How. Long. Have you been seeing Cheery?" 

Carrot swallowed. He had a fresh appreciation for all their suspected criminals, hauled in from the streets and sat across a table from Angua. "Well…three days." 

Angua blinked. She took a breath, visibly calming herself down. "Why don't we take this from the top. What's going on?" 

Carrot told her everything, the title he didn't want, the war that was brewing, the solution Cheery offered. "It's the best thing we could think of. It's not…it's obviously not how we wanted it to go, but…"

"That sweet, self-sacrificing dwarf, she's going to give me grey hairs. They're going to show up around my muzzle. I'm too young to look distinguished," Angua muttered. "Listen to me, Carrot. I've walked the same streets as you, I understand that this is a deadly game you're playing." 

" _Thank_ you," Carrot said, not quite managing to avoid sounding snippy. 

"What you need to understand," Angua continued, still speaking in the clipped tones of tightly leashed fury, "is that Cheery has had an adorable puppy crush on you for forever now."

Carrot blinked.

"I don't think she ever expected it to go anywhere. Figured you were out of her league. Which, I've told her she's an idiot, if anyone would be the lucky one, it'd be you. And now you've gone and dragged her into this mess!"

Carrot blinked. "I never—it was her idea!"

"You said yes."

"It was a good idea!" Carrot threw his hands up. "Why are you mad at me? Honestly, am I doing something wrong here? I value your judgement, you know that."

Angua's face fell out of its brittle lines and into something sad. "Just...be careful Carrot, okay? This is going to be worse for Cheery. Both because she's the one that's going to draw everyone's fire, and because she likes you. You're both self-sacrificial idiots but...keep an eye on her, okay?"

Carrot took that advice in, and nodded. "I'll watch out. As best I can. And I'll be careful." He paused. "You know that I'll look out for her, right? I do care about her." 

"I know. And I guess that's really all I can ask for," Angua said with a long-suffering sigh. She reached forward and ruffled Carrot's hair. "Idiot," she said affectionately. "Good luck with this mess."

Carrot ducked his head and smiled at her. He hadn't expected Angua to be a jealous, but it was still a relief that her objection wasn't that he was seeing someone, it was that the whole relationship was manufactured to respond to a tense political standoff and people might get hurt. That seemed very reasonable to Carrot. It was also his main objection. 

Still. Cheery had a crush. 

Carrot shuffled the paperwork in front of him without really looking at it. He had reliable reports that lots of people had crushes on him. It came with the whole 'charisma' thing. People liked the idea of him, more than they liked real him. Well, Cheery would see the real him soon enough, and the crush would probably fade. Carrot was hopeful that their friendship and common purpose were enough to see things through. 

* * *

"No," Cheery mumbled as she took a large gulp of her hot-pink, sugary, and lethally alcoholic drink, "he's been really decent about it." 

Sally snorted. "Of course he's been decent. That boy oozes decency. Doesn't mean it's not a pisser of a situation, though." 

Cheery gave a lopsided shrug. "It's fine. Either the mines back down quietly and there's no war, or they don't, and instead I get to publically champion being a dwarf woman on the Grand Political Stage." 

"You've always been…quieter, in your championing," Angua pointed out. "You're really okay with this?" 

"No," Cheery answered honestly, and downed her drink. "So I should probably have like, four more of these, until I stop panicking." 

"Not a bad plan," Angua agreed.

Two more drinks in, and her tongue had finally loosened enough to ask, "Did I break the Girl Code? I feel like I did. Proposing to your best friend's ex in order to avert a war might break the code." 

Angua snorted. "It was a peaceful breakup. You should have asked me first before making a pass, normally, but it was special circumstances*. 

(*Angua was technically incorrect; Girl Code Section E, Paragraph 3, subparagraph b, does support asking first. However, geopolitical breakdown is not covered by Section E, Paragraph 4, subparagraph d; Special Circumstances. That sort of crisis situation better follows he rules laid out in Section E, Paragraph 4, subparagraph c; Emergencies.)

"Okay, good. Our friendship is really important to me, and I don't want to—"

"What if you do have to marry him?" Angua cut her off. 

Cheery stared at her third drink, hoping it had some answers. It didn't, so she went with the obvious. "Then I'll marry him. It wouldn't be awful. Carrot's nice."

Angua and Sally shared a look. 

"You deserve better than nice," Sally said decisively. "If that man doesn't appreciate how wonderful you are, I'll break his kneecaps." 

Cherry had to stifle a giggle. "Really? You'd do that for me?" 

"In a heartbeat. Now come on, even if this whole thing is weird and messed up, you still deserve a wild bachelorette party. Let's go crash Tawneee's place. She knows where we can find the best male dancers. And then we can put money in their underpants." 

Cheery looked up in alarm. "I don't know if I want to—" 

"Nope, no arguing," Sally said, already moving to pay off the barman. "You're an engaged woman. It would be a crime against tradition if you didn't ogle muscles, giggle at how floppy men are, and stuff money into their waistband so they don't get too self-conscious about the giggling." 

"That doesn't seem right." Cheery gulped down the rest of her drink before Angua dragged her away from it and toward the door. 

"No, it's probably about right," Angua said. "Men want you to believe they've all got truncheons down there, but when you come down to it, what's they're brandishing is more of a sock full of nickels. Dangerous if you know how to use it right, but still very…" 

"Floppy," Cheery filled in.

"Exactly," Sally cheered, coming up and throwing her arm around Angua's shoulder. "Now you're getting it. Let's go!" 

* * *

Cheery looked tired. Beautiful, but tired. Her lush eye makeup was clearly disguising some impressive bags under her eyes. She usually looked like that after pulling an all-nighter with some crime scene evidence, greeting him as he came in with a manic smile, shivers from drinking too much of Igor's coffee, and a stack of exquisitely laid out data points that meant doom for any criminals.

The problem was, Carrot knew Cheery hadn't been at work since the day before.

"Are you okay?" he asked her quietly. "Getting sick?"

"Oh, huh? No," Cheery shook her head, and did her best to hide a yawn. "I made the mistake of going out with Angua and Sally last night. Give it a couple minutes and the coffee will kick in. Promise, I'm good." She gave him a smile, and pat his elbow.

"Because we don't have to go if you don't want to…" Carrot trailed off. It was a nice idea, but completely ridiculous. Of course they needed to go to the very nice diplomatic reception thrown by a lot of the powerful and influential Ankh-Morpork dwarfs. They wouldn't get a better opportunity to make it clear that they were thrilled the three-mine-collective had taken a chance on such a progressive leader, and how excited they were to see what the future would look like. 

The look Cheery gave him let Carrot know that she was thinking the same thing. "Sure you're not the one who wants to get out of this?" 

Carrot sighed. "I'm not really looking forward to this," he admitted. 

"A room full of people that very politely want us very much not to exist? I can't imagine why that would be stressful to you!' Cheery's sarcasm had a bright glint to it, and Carrot couldn't help smiling in response. 

"Well, shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm. He had to bend down more than a little, and she had to lift up, but they made it work. Cheery's elegant hammered steel boots with their three-inch heels helped. 

They descended. 

It was a dwarf occasion, but a distinctly Ankh-Morpork dwarf occasion. That meant that, like every self-respecting dwarf occasion, it happened underground. However, in this case, underground meant a sprawling subterranean mansion. The descending platform dropped arriving guests off into a huge ballroom. The walls were covered in rich tapestry, copying the tastes of the wealthiest old-money Ankh-Morporkians. They were also covered in gem mosaics, to make it clear that this was _dwarfish_ wealth. It was fine work, and the gems caught the light of a thousand candles, throwing it back to the gathered crowd in shimmering refractions. 

The crowd were a mix of dwarfs. Not too many of the deep-downers. This was, after all, ostensibly the celebration of Carrot's nomination as king and his engagement. The first was enough cause for scandal. It wasn't so much that Carrot was tall for a dwarf, it was the fact that he chose to live and walk on the surface.The deep-downers would never celebrate that sort of man being appointed. And that set aside the matter of Cheery.

Cheery faced the crowd with a grace that Carrot envied. He suspected she had been spending some time with Sybil. Carrot could hear the murmurs and scorn, could see the way these good and proper dwarfs moved away from the obvious _woman_ in their midst. But Cheery practiced the finest in selected hearing, kept her chin up, and greeted the friendlier faces with a warmth to be envied. 

Carrot did his best to follow her lead. He couldn't—this wasn't the place to go struggling about and trying to defend Cheery's honor. Not unless she wanted him to. But what he could do is make it very clear that whatever else was going on, Cheery had a fiance that adored her. 

"Oh, if anything, I'm marrying up," Carrot said cheerfully to a contingent of Copperhead dwarfs. "I'm just your average street copper. She's completely revolutionized the forensic side of policing." 

"Isn't she beautiful?" Carrot said to a group from the limestone mines out by Quirm. "She's wearing micromail, have you had the chance to see some? I know Quirm is known for their fine mail working. But, I have to admit, I only know because she tells me. She's just as beautiful to me eight hours in on a shift in beat up platemail." 

"How'd we meet?" Carrot smiled winningingly over at the group of…he felt it was safe to say dwarf women. They hadn't quite gone for the full skirts yet, but the rogue and eye makeup were telling. "We've been friends for ages. You know how sometimes you just look up and the best thing in your life is right there in front of you?" 

The women ducked their head and smiled. "You're so lucky," he overheard one of them say to Cheery a little later. He smiled to himself. Mission accomplished. 

There was some fanfare and fuss from the other end of the room, and a voice announced, "We welcome Do'raim Errantsmith of the Red Hills Mines and Pilkut Quartzbound of the Shale Lowlands."

Carrot caught Cheery's eyes and they both straightened. Dwarfs from the mines that had elected Carrot. They hadn't expected that tonight. Maybe…maybe this would be over now. Maybe they were here to announce their terrible mistake, so sorry, so embarrassing, of course Carrot was welcome to visit… 

Carrot and Cheery walked over to greet the dwarfs. There was no mistaking the wariness in their eyes as Carrot and Cheery approached. These were the leaders that had reached for Carrot to use him as a tool, and he'd surprised them. They might be dangerous. 

Carrot warred against his own instinct to tuck Cheery behind him. He couldn't afford to offer her that safety here. So instead he reached down and took her hand, bowing low so he could kiss the backs of her knuckles. Let them see the easy affection. Let them know that they could not get their king without getting a queen as well. 

"Kzad-bhat Ironfoundersson," Do'raim said as they approached, placing heavy emphasis on Carrot's full, never-used, dwarfish name. "An honor to finally meet you in person. We of course know much of you already." Do'raim turned, and inclined his head toward Cheery. "I have not had the pleasure of knowing you nearly so well, Cheery Littlebottom." 

Carrot had to try to hide a grimace. That was more polite than he had hoped for. They were apparently still clearly hoping to salvage a political advantage out of this. Right. Time to Politic. "I'm so pleased I have the chance to introduce you two," Carrot said, pulling sincerity from the fact that he was being entirely honest. He _was_ very pleased to not be doing this alone. "Please meet Cheery, my fiancee. She's the finest dwarf I know." 

* * *

Wilkins opened the back door to the Vimes residence, and he inclined his head when he saw Cheery. "Miss Littlebottom. Master Vimes is not currently in residence. I believe he is, in fact, enjoying a turn down the sodden streets of Ankh-Morpork, feeling the cobbles under his feet and checking the pulse of the city." 

"That sounds like him," Cheery said, shifting herself into the overhang as the rain splattered down around them. She felt like an elegant drowned rat. "I'm, um, not actually here to see the Commander. Is Sybil in?" 

Willikin's face softened as he looked her over again. Cheery suspected he knew what she saw. One small drenched dwarf, an oilskin coat hastily thrown over her formal micromail dress. Hunched shoulders, smeared makeup, misery in a neat little pile. 

"She's upstairs. Doing some crochet, I believe. She'll be grateful for the interruption. Come, lets get you into the parlor and I'll take your coat." 

Cheery let herself be ushered into the Vimes' receiving parlor. It was a cozy space. She had always liked it, and always liked Sybil just that little bit more because of it. All the wealth and power you could ask for, and she still cared that visitors were comfortable, rather than intimidated. 

"Cheery!" Sybil bustled into the room and went straight for the tea cart that Willikens had quietly brought into the room a few minutes earlier. With her back still turned to Cheery, porcelain clattering, she continued, "I must say it's quite the surprise to have you come calling on me, and not Sam. A happy surprise, mind you—"

Sybil turned around and caught full sight of Cheery for the first time, and her face folded into something warm and sympathetic. "But this is more of a me sort of problem, than a Sam sort of problem, isn't it?" 

Cheery sniffed and nodded. 

"Lets get you some tea. Chocolate biscuit?"

Cheery munched her biscuit and drank her tea and let Sybil pull the whole story out of her. Her crush on Carrot, the worry she wasn't up to being the main representative for dwarf women, and the wonderful, terrible disaster that had been the reception in their honor. 

"It didn't go badly, from a…Politics standpoint," Cheery conceded. 

"No, if you actually wanted to be married to the king of a modest collection of dwarf mines, it sounds like it went very well indeed," Sybil agreed. "And that's exactly the problem, isn't it?" 

Cheery sniffed. "The biggest problem isn't even the king part. I mean, it is the biggest problem, but that's not why I'm here, curled up and crying over tea and biscuits." 

"So what is going on then, dear?" Sybil asked, in her finest sympathetic voice*. (*Lady Sybil's finest sympathetic voice had an advantage over most other sympathetic voices, in that it was entirely genuine and motivated by real concern.) 

"Carrot was _perfect_ ," Cheery said glumly. "It was everything I ever wanted from a relationship, and it's fake. What am I supposed to do when this is over? I'm going to have this unattainable standard just _mocking me_. Even worse, what do I do if the idiot elders council of those mines _don't_ call off the kingship and we have to just…keep being married? And he keeps being perfect. Forever. And I'll know the whole time that he's just putting on a good face, and hating myself for how much I love it."

Sybil didn't say anything for a moment, just pushed the tray of biscuits closer to Cheery with a sympathetic hum. Cheery was grateful for the companionable silence. 

After a moment, Sybil took a sip of her tea and said, "You know, dear, when I was much younger, Havelock proposed to me." 

"Havelock? Who's—" Cheery's eyes widened. " _Lord Vetinari_?" she hissed. 

Sybil nodded. "He and I have always been friends. This was shortly after he took over the city, I was just old enough that the fact that I was unmarried was starting to cause some…misguided individuals to say unkind things. I rather think it was an effort on his part to spare me their cruelty, though he disguised it as a sensible strategic move that would strengthen Ankh-Morpork." 

"By the sand and shale," Cheery said, shaking her head. "I can't believe it. What happened?" 

"I turned him down, of course. Otherwise that would make my marrying Sam a bit awkward. Not that Havelock wouldn't have figured out a way around it, had I been determined, but it's much simpler this way." 

"You turned down the patrician," Cheery squeaked. "How are you still _alive_?" 

"Because I was right, and he's a tyrant, not a bad man. Here's the thing. Havelock offered because he thought I needed it, and probably because he thought he would benefit too. But he and I were both more than capable of weathering our courses single, and I decided I would rather hold out for love." 

Cheery's heart sank. "I should call it off, is what you're saying." 

"No," Sybil said firmly. "I'm saying you should figure out your reasons, and talk to him. If you want this to be a show, tell him. If you want it to be genuine, tell him that too. You and Carrot are very different people than myself and Havelock. It would have been easier if Havelock and I were together, but not better. For the two of you, I suspect it may rather be reversed. Easier for the both of you, on your own, but better together."

Cheery felt her nose wrinkle. "I'm not sure about that." 

"Well, think about it," Sybil said sensibly. "Whatever happens, you want to make sure you wind up with a future you can live with." 

* * *

Carrot opened the door to the watch house and blinked out into the pale dawn light. He got to work day shift more often than not, nowadays, but it was good every so often to spend some time on the night watch, going to bed when everyone else was waking up. 

"Hey, Carrot, wait a minute, would you?" Cheery called, jogging up to him. She was coming off shift too, smelling vaguely of chemical fumes. Carrot obediently waited until Cheery arrived next to him. She looked up and opened her mouth. No words came out. 

Carrot waited a little longer for the words, and when none seemed forthcoming he asked, "How's the pollen analysis going?" 

Cheery's mouth shut. After a second, she said, "There's so much pollen, Carrot. So much," in the vaguely haunted tones of a soldier that believes they will never know the end of war.

Carrot winced. "I really do think the analysis will help—"

Cheery waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, I'll crack it sooner or later. I just need to find less allergic lab assistants. But that, um, wasn't why I wanted to talk to you…could we grab some food together. I want to talk to you about…future…stuff." 

"Oh!" said Carrot, suddenly understanding. "Yes, yes of course." 

He and Cheery hadn't seen too much of each other since the remarkably successful political party. Crime didn't wait for political maneuvering. They had both gone back to work and worked for six days straight, barely talking. 

This was not a problem for their publicity. Long hours at the same job with synchronized work schedules was considered the height of dwarfish romance* (*aside, of course, from the tragedy of noble death on the battlefield together, but even the strictest deep-down dwarfs agreed that was more aspirational than realistic). But it had been a while since they'd talked, and it was probably a good idea to check in. 

They found a place that did a decent kabob and coffee, and settled into a quiet corner. Carrot had already scarfed down two kabobs before he realized Cheery wasn't eating. "Is everything okay?"

"We're probably going to have to get married," Cheery said all in a rush. "They should have called it off by now, if they were going to. Which means they're going ahead with it. And if they go ahead with it and we don't, then it's all for nothing and they get their war anyway." 

"Not necessarily," Carrot said. As he spoke, he felt some tension leave his shoulders. The same thought had been worrying him, and it felt good to discuss it. "I've been thinking about it. We could probably come up for a reason for breaking up that still makes me look like a radical. I mean, I think I _am_ a radical, by their standards, I just need to figure out ways of showing it." 

"I don't want to do that," Cheery said in a rush, staring down at her food. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. If they call it off and we get out of it, great, we'll go our separate ways. But if they don't call it off—I don't think we should either. It's too risky. Unless, you know, you really hate the idea of being married to me." 

"No!" Carrot protested on pure instinct. He took a second and let his thoughts catch up. "If I'm stuck being king of something, I genuinely think it would go better if you were there. But I don't want you to feel trapped in this." 

Cheery nodded. "Okay, this next part is embarrassing and scary and I need you to not judge me, okay?" 

"O…kay?" 

Cheery tapped the pads of her fingers together, staring down at the table. Not looking up, she said, "I've liked you for a long time now. Romantically. Attraction. All that. And that's actually made it really difficult, pretending with you. Because it's like I'm getting all this really great stuff, but it's fake." 

Carrot wasn't sure what to say. Apologize that Cheery was in that situation? Say he'd be less nice? Protest that he really hadn't been pretending very much at all? 

Carrot was often a complete disaster when it came to romance, but he had a feeling that last point might raise more issues than it solved. That didn't mean it wasn't true, though. 

"So here's what I need, to do this. At least to do this without it driving me completely sun-mad. Until we get married, it's pretend, you're swoony and over the top, and it's all great. But once we're married, I want it to be real. And if that means we're just great friends that live together and fight for the equal representation of dwarf women together, then that's what we'll be. But if there's anything else, I want it to be real. Can you promise me that?" 

Carrot was struck by the urge to promise her the stars, the sky, a piece of the the great turtle's shell. Whatever she wanted. Of course. But he knew what she wanted most was for him to take this seriously, so he quashed that impulse, and thought through things. 

"I think that's a very sensible approach. I wouldn't want to live all my life feeling like I'm pretending. I've never been good at being something I'm not." 

Cheery visibly relaxed. "Thank you," she said with deep sincerity. 

There was something else important that Carrot needed to say. Something about how he had faith in their friendship no matter what, but he wanted to _try_ for more. That he thought it could work, and he thought that maybe they should take it seriously. Starting now, even. Why wait until they get married? 

But before he could figure out how to straighten out that thought into a sentence that made sense, Cheery flushed bright pink and said. "So, considering all that, don't you think it's time we…um, compare ledgers?" 

Carrot felt heat sweep cross his own face. Compare ledgers. That was only something that you did when you were really serious about someone. You find out how much they still owed to their parents from their upbringing, and compared it to how much money you both had to hand. It determined how long the engagement would be. And it told you a lot about the person, too. More than one marriage had been called off due to shoddy bookkeeping. 

"I know, it doesn't really make a difference for us," Cheery said, still a miserable but determined shade of pink. "We've already decided. But if we're going to do this right…"

"Absolutely," Carrot said quickly. "You've got the right to see it, and I'd be happy to show you."

They both turned even redder and looked around the cafe. You didn't go just talking about _showing people your ledger_ in public. 

"Would you like to come back to my place?" Carrot asked, lowering his voice. 

Cheery's eyes went wide and she nodded. "Yes, I'm, we can swing by mine on the way. To pick up the...thing."

"Yes," Carrot nodded quickly. "The thing."

They packed up quickly. Carrot insisted on getting a to-go bag for Cheery's kabobs, she barely touched them. "You'll be hungry later," Carrot insisted.

The dwarf behind the counter smiled at Carrot. "It's good you're around to look out for…her." There was a brief stumble over the word, but the dwarf managed the unfamiliar pronoun well.

"I agree," Carrot said, offering the dwarf a smile as he took the bag and hurried out to catch up with Cheery. 

He stayed outside when she ducked into her little boarding house, and amused himself by studying the building as he waited. She re-emerged with a leather satchel she was handling carefully, and they continued on down to Carrot's place. 

Carrot felt good about his home—over the years he had managed to make a fairly comfortable place, he thought. It was easy, sometimes, when you were a copper, to let that take over your whole life. Carrot was careful to keep a little space carved out just for him. He realized that if he and Cheery did wind up getting married, they'd probably need to move in together. Which would probably mean buying a new place. Cheery seemed like she'd want to have a home alchemy lab, and Carrot's walls were not currently rated for that. 

"Nice place," Cheery commented as she walked in, looking around. 

"Thanks. Do you, uh, want anything to drink?" 

Cheery set down her bag on the table and gave Carrot a helpless look. "Honestly I'd rather just do this before my nerve fails me." 

"Of course," Carrot said, quickly accommodating. "Let me go grab mine." 

Carrot's ledger was a massive leather bound tome, like all proper dwarven ledgers were. Instead of the usual precious metal-and-stone embellishments, Carrot had opted for something that better matched his current statement. Chipped pieces of cobblestone and brick from around the city, layered into the cover in an appealing gradient.

"Oooh," Cheery said when he brought it out. "That's gorgeous! May I?" she asked, and when he nodded, she ran her fingers over the cover. "Alright, so, that's Butcher Hill brick, right? And over there, these cobbles…they're from Cartwright Lane."

"Yes!" Carrot said. He had never had the opportunity to show someone his ledger who would appreciate both what it was and the picture it painted. Cheery was able to identify every last stone. It made sense. When they pulled stones out a criminals boots those stones went to Cheery's lab for analysis. 

"I'm afraid mine isn't nearly as interesting," Cheery said, much more relaxed after their geological tour through the city. She pulled out her ledger, a respectful dark-brown hide with gold embossing, and small sapphires studded in the corners. 

"I like it," Carrot said quickly. "Family pattern?"

Cheery nodded. "Mum made it for me, just seemed rude to turn it down." 

Carrot got a wistful smile on his face. "My parents sent me off without one. They told me to make one myself that suited the city. I think—" Carrot found it hard to say the next bit. He wasn't practiced at putting it into words. But if anyone would understand, it was Cheery. "I think they wanted to give me a chance to be human, if that's what I wound up wanting to me." 

Cheery made a face. "I mean, on one hand it's nice…"

"Yeah," Carrot said with a sigh. "But on the other hand, I don't really like that they gave me the option. Anyway, you asked, I accepted, you get first viewing." Carrot opened his ledger and offered it. 

His handwriting wasn't the neatest, but he had always been careful when it came to this. Every sum earned, tallied. It painted, he knew, a fairly respectable picture. He had expenses well under his income, a tidy savings, and more importantly, zero remaining debt to his parents. It was rare that a dwarf actually had that paid off before their engagement. But Carrot hadn't felt that a proper dwarfish marriage was something he could count on, and it seemed wrong to cheat his parents out of that money. It all worked out. 

Cheery ran her fingers along the column. "You were expensive to raise," she chuckled, when she flipped back to see where Carrot's parental debt had started. 

Carrot blushed. "I do eat a bit more than the average dwarf." 

"No kidding," Cheery said with distracted amusement. "You've got a lot of payments out to charitable sources." She wrinkled her nose. "I'm afraid I'm going to look selfish by comparison." 

"No, I know you," Carrot said. "And nothing in that ledger is going to change—I was worried you'd be intimidated, I just want you to know that I wouldn't expect you to pay with the debt to your parents, just because I've paid off mine. I want to do this properly." 

Cheery gave him a smile he couldn't quite read. "Here," she said softly, and offered her ledger over. 

It took a minute for Carrot to understand what he was seeing. Cheery's parental debt column was also being reduced, down and down, and, like Carrot's, was sitting at a total of zero. Cheery's expenses were a bit higher, lots of money paid to obscure metal and chemical merchants and a few hefty fees titled, "property damage."

But her income…"This is not a watch salary." 

"Nope," Cheery said, pointing out her notation. "I have diversified income. I'm a part-owner of a dwarfish cosmetics company, do some inspirational speaking and gig events, and I sometimes do modeling for upper end boutiques. They mostly just want a famous dwarf woman, and it doesn't pay great, but it gives me access to micromail I wouldn't be able to afford otherwise."

Carrot blinked, nodding. "You're rich." 

Cheery gave a little giggle. "I wouldn't go that far. I'd say I'm _respectable_." 

"No, _I'm_ respectable. You're…"

"Fine, _very_ respectable." Cheery fidgeted and looked away. "Look, I was not well off when I first got here, right? And my parents weren't entirely sure what to do with the whole…skirts thing when it first happened. They came around, they're not bad people, but I didn't want to be reliant on them. At all. So I paid off my debt and made sure I had enough money to not need to call them—or anyone— up for anything else."

Carrot rubbed his lips, looking over his ledger, and hers, and then imagining them combined. "We're…actually really well off for marriage." 

Cheery nodded. "I honestly thought you'd still be carrying your parental debt, good traditional boy that you are. I wasn't worried, because I could probably pay it out of my current savings…but. Huh. We could really—"

"Yeah." Carrot was not the most eloquent he'd ever been, but they were actually incredibly well-matched. Considering that Carrot's parents, at least, would still be giving the elaborate wedding gift that was traditional… "My parents would have thrown me at you, if I was still back home, and they saw this," he said with a little laugh.

"I know!" Cheery exclaimed. "I don't show my ledger to most people because I don't—I already get some folks coming around because they're just _fascinated_ by a dwarf woman. I don't want to add people being _fascinated_ by money on top of it. But I have to admit, it's really nice to know that those good, traditional dwarfs don't have any good, traditional reasons to object to us marrying." 

"Aside from the obvious," Carrot said, placing a hand on top of his head and dragging it over until it sat floating far above Cheery's hair. 

Cheery grinned up at the hand. "Yep. Height and skirts, that's all they've got. But money, industry, all the stuff that _really_ matters?"

"We're as proper as dwarfs can be. We're nearly close to being able to start our own mine, with this." 

"Sure. But why would we want to? We're in Ankh-Morpork! Business is the way—we could buy out the other partners on the cosmetics company, or maybe diversify into a few other businesses. There's a market in dwarf-focused perfumes, for sure, or maybe there's something you're interested in! We'd keep up the charitable expenditures, of course, I've been meaning to do that myself more anyway—" 

"A house," Carrot broke in. "We should get a better house. With space for a lab, and a courtyard big enough that I could hold some Youth Enrichment Activities*." 

(*The Youth Enrichment Activities were greeted with mixed feelings by the youth it was supposed to enrich. The sort of enrichment these youth were accustomed to was a self-directed liberation of wallets from the cruel purses and pockets of their masters. But when Carrot showed up, earnestly asking if they'd like to Participate in Culture they found themselves agreeing, and then later, found themselves dancing folk dances next to their hated rivals. Two major gangs, the Pufferfish and the High Pressure Streams, had even begun resolving fights by elaborate dance-offs. The upside of fewer casualties was determined an acceptable balance for how silly they all looked snapping.) 

"My own lab!" Cheery brought her hands to her cheeks in rapture. "Yes, absolutely, we should do that. Ah!" She giggled. "Sorry, I'm just having so much fun." 

"We should mock up a combined ledger," Carrot said. He blushed furiously as he did so, but he pressed on. "I mean, we're here, and we've got them out. And it'll be good if we need to prove how serious we are!"

"Yes! That sounds like a very good idea. I, um, have some ideas on how to merge our accounting practices." Cheery was flushing red herself, again. She was adorable, and Carrot realized he wanted to pull her onto his lap and kiss her. He wanted to prove to her that they could make this work. 

But if he did that now, he didn't think Cheery would understand him. She'd think he was playing, or pretending, or just caught up in the moment. Carrot resolved to wait. If they actually wound up married, he'd let her know then. She'd know it was real because he'd promised. 

So for now, he did the next best thing. "I've got some printing paper. I'll draft the lines, and you do the writing?" 

* * *

Cheery was seriously considering that she might just be an anxious person. After all, she had been so, so anxious that she might have to marry Carrot. And she took a deep breath, got through it, talked with trusted friends, and now, she was doing okay! Aside from the fact that she was now deeply anxious she might _not_ have to marry Carrot. 

How selfish was that? Because, Carrot didn't really want to marry her. Sure, he was being—okay, decent was the wrong word, but good. He was being good about it. Big surprise. They were in a difficult situation, he was making the most of it. And if they got married, Cheery had no doubt he would be the best possible husband—no, the best possible _person_ he could be. And along the way he'd be a really amazing husband. They'd be really happy. 

But that didn't change the fact that he didn't want to get married in the first place. They had been friends for _years_ and he and Angua had their amiable split months ago. There was plenty of time to have shown interest. And he didn't. And that was _fine_. It just meant that outside of the very specific circumstances of him being named king in a way that was bound to start a war and a convenient-or-inconvenient-depending-on-your-perspective marriage was the best way to prevent it, Carrot wouldn't have picked her. 

Which meant, that if the marriage got called off, she was going to have to let him go. 

Let him go, and his kind smile and his little touches, and his quiet humor, and their beautiful ledger page with his neat lines and her tidy script. Cheery rubbed at her collarbone. It was really going to hurt. 

So far, things had been quiet. Cheery had mostly been working, which was really good for taking her mind off of worrying, by putting it squarely on other things, like murder. Aside from dogging the heels of Crime, Cheery had also found time to do a couple other interviews with Carrot. And then there were her other income streams to consider, she reviewed the upcoming Beard Shimmer line, and she had gotten paid to show up at a few fashion debeuts in a particular pair of heeled boots, or steel-studded clutch, that sort of thing. 

She stayed busy. It kept her from worrying too much. 

And then, one day, she looked up from her examination of Tipsy Pine pollen to find Carrot in the door of her lab, looking grave. "Cheery, do you have a minute for a walk?" Carrot asked. 

"Um," Cheery swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. Whatever he had to say, Cheery suspected she wasn't going to want to hear it. But putting it off would just delay the inevitable. "Of course." 

She took her time tucking the pollen samples back away again. But she couldn't drag things out much longer than that, and before she knew it, she was pacing the streets with Carrot shortening his stride to keep careful pace with her. 

Once they got far enough away from the station, Carrot said, "The mines called it off. They discovered their election method unfairly privileged right-hand-dominant dwarfs." 

Cheery was surprised her feet kept walking, considering the way the world was falling out from under them. "Of course," she managed. 

"They held a recount, turns out the real winner was Thorn Tribbs. I did some research. He's a decent sort, experienced engineer. The mines will be in good hands." 

That was Carrot through and through, wasn't it. Caring about the mines that had tried to use him to start a war. "Good," Cheery said in reply. And she reminded herself that it was good, that most dwarfs in that mine weren't good dwarfs or bad dwarfs they were just dwarfs, and they deserved a good life as much as anyone else. 

"So, um, that comes back to us," Carrot said. He was walking so stiffly, Cheery absently noted as she prepared to get her heart broken. "We don't need to get married anymore." 

"No," Cheery said, dragging her eyes away from Carrot and keeping them fixed in the middle of the road. It was the only way she could force out the words, "Should we say negotiations with our families fell through? Or maybe the excuse about work needing to be our priority." 

She could do this. _She could do this._ It wasn't like she was losing him as a friend. That was the more important thing. She'd keep telling herself that until she remembered it. 

"One of those should work," Carrot agreed. "I prefer the work excuse. I don't want anything that would imply either one of us was unsuitable."

Except that's what this whole thing was, in the end. It's why Cheery suggested it in the first place. Cheery. Ultimately unsuitable. 

"The important thing, is that we don't feel obligated to be together anymore," Carrot said deliberately. 

"Yes," Cheery managed miserably. "No obligation. Agreed." 

"Good," Carrot said, with such obvious relief that Cheery had to fight from balling up her fists and yelling at him. He could at least have the decency to be a little sad about things. Say something about how she'd have made a decent spouse, all in all, that sort of thing. Didn't have to be so obviously _happy_ about it. 

Not fair, she wasn't being fair, just because she had gone and fallen in love— 

Oh, Blackest Dark, she had been doing such a _good_ job of not admitting that, even to herself. 

"So, now that that's settled," Carrot continued on, blithely unaware on Cheery's churning misery, "can I take you out to dinner on Tuesday?" 

Cheery stumbled over her own feet and stopped. For the first time in the conversation, she actually turned to look at Carrot. He looked— 

Nervous? Why would he look nervous? 

"What?" she asked. 

Carrot bit his lip, squared his shoulders, and really _looked_ at her. "I would like to take you out to dinner. Not because of Politics, or obligation, or to stop a war. Just because I like you. Because you understand me. Because you know what it's like to be a dwarf that some people don't see as a dwarf. Because you love this city too. Because you're smart and beautiful and you make me laugh and I think that we could build something really wonderful together. We don't _have_ to anymore. But I still _want_ to. Very much." 

"Really?" Cheery squeaked.

Carrot nodded. "I don't know—I know you said you had a crush on me. But a crush is different from actually thinking that you'll work with a person. So it's fine if you don't want to. We're not obligated. But…I had to ask." 

"I didn't even _think_ —" Cheery half-blurted out, before she caught herself. "Um, _yes_." 

Carrot lifted up and smiled like the first rays of sun after a long, cold night on the streets. "Yes?" 

"Yes! You—you're—smart and kind and so charismatic you're rewriting the laws of physics, I read a paper on it once, and you're generous and you love the city and you actually care about my pollen research—" 

"Your pollen research is amazing! It's going to do so much good for—" 

"See! You're so supportive, you're really a _good_ person, and I know how few of them there are and—" 

"But you actually see _me_ you don't just see this ideal to—" 

"Everyone who can't see it is blind, and you see me too, and you _like_ me, skirts and all—"

"You—"

"You're—"

They both fell silent, and giggled a little, which grew into chuckles, which bloomed into a full gale of laughter. After they both caught their breath, Cheery said, "Carrot, I'd _love_ to go to dinner with you." 

Carrot brightened. "Good! I have just the place in mind. And maybe after, I was thinking—have you seen the dwarf museum?" 

"Heard about it, never actually been. Wanted to, though. I'd love to walk through it with you. And then, maybe in the week, I could take you out to dinner? And I don't know if you've ever been through the Alchemist Hall's public labs, but I think you'd really enjoy some of it." 

"You know I went a couple years back, but I think I'd really like to see it with you." Carrot smiled.

Cheery smiled back. "Actually, want to go grab a bite now? We should plan what we're going to say to the press. And it would let us give this _dating_ thing a try." 

Carrot nodded, and steered them toward a cafe he knew about. 

Cheery walked alongside, full of plans, big and small. She was going to order something sweet and sugary, and she was going to encourage him to drink half. He was going to put his legs into her half of the table, and she was going to let her foot brush against his calf. While they ate, she'd see if he'd be okay without formally breaking the engagement. They didn't need to, and there were certain advantages with keeping it going. She wanted him to meet her parents. She wanted to meet his.

And then someday, when it felt right, no pressure or stress or lopsided emotions, she would maybe get the chance to pull out that combined ledger sheet and suggest they update it. Make good on their long engagement. She thought they had pretty good odds of making it that far, considering all they'd already survived. 

But for now, she reached up, and took his hand. He smiled as he looked down and squeezed her grip. Cheery felt herself blush and didn't mind. Because Carrot was here, he was holding her hand, and they were walking down the street together. 

**Author's Note:**

> Pratchett's world and the narrative voice that comes with it is always an incredibly fun thing to dip into. It was interesting to mix it with more of a classic love story! 
> 
> This story was strongly inspired by Ashling's thoughts on Cheery and how wonderful she was. She's long been a favorite of mine as well, and so when I saw the prompts for both the Just Married Fic Exchange and the Little Black Dress exchange I went, you know what? Yes. I do want to give Cheery nice things. Nice things, in this case, being Carrot, who is very lucky :D


End file.
